Red vs Blue, Season 11- Oregon's Rampage
by Dark Brother 16
Summary: In the wake of Season Ten, a group of Freelancers enter into an epic struggle to bring down a killer. In the struggle, a Freelancer named Oregon accepts the assistance of the Reds and the Blues. Who is the killer? What does it have to do with the Reds and the Blues? Rated M for strong language.
1. Chapter 1

The sun beat down unforgivingly upon the Canyon. As far as the weather, nothing changed much in the Canyon. On one side of the Canyon, there were many large boxes that contained various discarded  
military surplus and pieces of vehicles. A lot of these lay all over the place, revealing that the people who lived on that side of the Canyon were either slobs or working on something big. That, or working on something  
that anyone else could fix and that they themselves were to inept to fix themselves. Ah yes, there was someone now. He wore blue Mark Five armor and moved erratically. He gazed at the parts scattered everywhere  
and, obviously not knowing what to pick up, just scooped up one of everything. Meanwhile, there was absolute silence on the opposite side of the Canyon. There was a garage and an old jeep with an attached  
machine gun, but noone was in sight, working on it or otherwise. Wait a minute! There was someone. This someone was rather large and wore orange Mark Six armor and seemed very content to just sit back in the  
shade of a nearby tree and sleep.

If this was all that could be expected from these people, then Oregon could expect no trouble at all. He finished surveying the area a second time, and then headed down toward the garage and his ticket  
toward his destination.

_**RED vs BLUE**_  
_**EPISODE 1- THE NEW**_** GUY**

Oregon snuck past the sleeping soldier, if he could accurately be called a soldier, and made it half-way to the garage, when suddenly, the orange guy made a loud, grunting snore. Oregon froze, fearful that  
he may wake up. But no, his intuitive devices told him, that was unlikely. This person had a low metabolism. He was lazy. Sure enough, instead of waking up, the idiotic homonculus simply rolled over onto his side.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Oregon turned back to his objective and steeled himself to press forward again. Until he heard the sound of a loaded shotgun cock behind his head.

"AH-HA!" cried an southern-accented voice. "Looks like a dirty Blue, comin' here to steal my Warthog. Hey grif." There was a pause, during which the speaker turned slightly to see the sleeping orange  
guy and shout, "GRIF! Wake up, ***d*** it!"

The orange, fat guy, Grif, snorted as he shot upright and asked dumbly, "Huh-wha-No, I didn't fall asleep, Sarge."

But the Sarge didn't want to hear it. "Shut up, dirtbag. I've just caught us a dirty Blue."

Just then, Oregon thought of something. "Are you color blind? I'm a Red!" And indeed, his armor was red. His scratched, golden visor shown in the sunlight as he turned with feigned indignant to the Sarge.

Sarge lowered his weapon, aghast. "Well, s***. You're right. I'm sorry 'bout that, friend."

"Hey, no harm done." Oregon pressed the ruse. "Are you in charge of the Red Team in this Canyon?"

"Urm, yeah." he answered hesitantly.

There was a story behind this hesitance, but he'd have to hear it later. "Excellent. Command has assigned me to this unit, so if you'll just introduce me to the rest of your Team-"

"Wait." Sarge stopped him. Grif looked on, unsure of what to do. "Command? Do they know we're here?"

"Of course they know." Oregon lied. Maybe this wasn't the best lie to use. "Why?"

But Sarge was unable or unwilling to accept this answer. "How could Command possibly have found us so quickly? How do they know we're here, soldier?" he demanded.

Thinking fast, Oregon told him, "I dunno. But I do know that they have a satellite over this area. Security procedures and all that."

"A satellite?! ***d*** it. But if they knew we were here so long-"

"Are you guys AWOL?" Oregon scolded.

Sarge blanched and answered, "Uuh, no, not... exactly... AWOL. We, uh-"

"We're wanted." Grif told him.

"_Shut up, Grif_!" Sarge bellowed.

Oregon was interested now. Maybe he could manipulate these guys into helping him out. "Really?"

"No!" Sarge insisted. "Urr, well, yes. Sorta. But it was a mistake. We were at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Ha, I know how that feels." Oregon told him truthfully.

Sarge hadn't expected this. "You do?"

"Yeah. Maybe I can tell you about it after I'm introduced to your Team."

"Well, you could." Sarge considered. "Or, you could be a dirty Blue trying to infiltrate our defenses with a disguise. How do I know we can trust you?" he growled.

Oregon calculated that the best thing to do was to give out bits of the truth now. "My name is Agent Oregon I'm a Freelancer, and I have come to join your Team."

"Woah, Sarge." Grif said, astonished. "He's a Freelancer. Just like what the Blues have."

"Yeah." Sarge grumbled as he contemplated this. "We could seriously even things out. We could win the war! Hoorah! Wait, wait, wait. How did you rank?"

Oregon began milking the moment. "Have you ever heard of Agent Texas?"

"Tex?! That dirty, no-good, homicidal no-good, dirty Blue." Sarge ranted. "She has been on their side from the very beginning. Kicked our ***es on several occasions. Almost killed Donut."

"Well, I'm as tough as her." Oregon pressed on. "I could beat everyone in the Program, except for Carolina and Texas."

Sarge loved this news. "Hotdog! That's the greatest news since I learned that we almost finished fixing Lopez."

Grif caught on to the only thing he really cared about. "'Hotdog'? That reminds me. It's lunchtime."

"You'll be eating a slug-sandwich if you don't stop ruining the mood, dirtbag." Sarge growled, then turned back to Oregon. "Welcome to the Red Army, soldier."

"Thank you, Sarge. I-" A whooshing caught his attention, then he screamed, "GET DOWN, NOW!" as a rocket flew over their heads. It almost hit the Warthog, but instead found the top of the garage  
at the last moment. Oregon shot up, pulled out his Assault Rifle and faced his attacker. They found him!

A massive soldier emerged with a Rocket Launcher over his shoulder, aiming it directly at Oregon The newcomer had green Mark Six Grenadier Armor, and he was really angry.

"Finally found yeh, yeh b******." he yelled with a heavy Jersey accent. "Yeh've really ****ed with our lives."

"I really couldn't care less about whose lives I've ****ed up, Jersey." Oregon shot back. "Not anymore, anyway. You just put the Rockets down and walk away now, understand?"

The attacker laughed wryly. "We've passed that, Regan. We're way passed that!" And with that, he shot again. Oregon barrel rolled to the right, finding cover behind a large rock.

"Never were smart enough to know when you're in over your head, were you Jersey?" Oregon shouted. "You really wanna do this? Fine. Get ready to die!"

**Well, this isn't good, is it? Who is this Agent Oregon? Who is his attacker? Does this have anything to do with the Reds and the Blues? Stay tuned to find out.**

**Please leave a review.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**RED vs Blue**_  
_**EPISODE 2- Freelancers**_

"Are you ready to die, Penny?" a white and blue armored woman wearing CQC helmut and shoulderguards demanded, fist clentched.

The woman to whom she was speaking, Freelancer Agent Pennsylvania, who wore blue Recon armor, answered calmly, "Not particularly, Mary. I'm on a busy schedule today."

Maryland, the first speaker, demanded, "How busy a schedule?"

"A whole bunch of absolutely nothing." Penny told her.

After a tense pause, the two embraced as the friends they were and laughed slightly. "Seriously, though," Maryland asked Penny, "what took you so long to get here?"

It was a good thing Penny had a helmut on, because she blushed as she answered, "Oh, well, I was in the Training Room waiting my turn to use the equipment. Carolina wouldn't get off of it."

"Oh really?" Maryland chuckled. "That's kinda wierd, because Carolina has been with York in the Mess Hall."

She was caught yet again. "Oh, she is?"

Maryland laughed as she insisted, "It's fine, don't tell me. Come on, let's walk."

That was what Pennsylvania liked about her friend. She didn't ask too many questions. Of course, there were other things that she liked about her too.

"So." Maryland started off with thinly-veiled anticipation. "Did you run into any men on your way over here?"

"Ha!" Penny laughed. "You got me. That's why I'm late. I ran into the someone."

"Ooo, tell me who it is?" Maryland begged. "I won't tell anyone. Come on."

"Nope, sorry. It's a secret."

"Can you at least let me guess?"

After thinking it over for a few seconds, Penny told her, "Hmmm. Okay, sure."

Maryland thought for a moment, then guessed, "Was it York?"

"No." she answered. "You already know that he's with Carolina in the Mess Hall. Besides, if it were York, there would be problems between me and Carolina."

"That would be interesting." Maryland commented, then began guessing again. "Was it... North?"

"Nope. Nice guess, though. North is a nice guy. Maybe you should hook up with North."

"No thanks." Maryland giggled. "Like you said, he's a nice enough guy, but he's just not my type. I'm looking for someone who is the strong, silent type. Someone who can really, really hold their own in a  
fight. Someone... Someone who is a little socially awkward."

Penny looked to her friend and teased, "You have strange taste in men. Good luck finding someone like that, though. They're definitely out there."

"Okay, now, my last guess." She wracked her brains for the name and eventually guessed, "Wash?"

"Sorry, wrong answer." Penny told her triumphantly. "Another good guess, though. Wash is cute and everything, but he's a bit immature sometimes. He also has my vote, if you were to consider him, though."

They giggled and gossiped on for a few moments until they came to the hangar. What they found was a few workers giving backwards glances into the hangar, so they peeked in and found what all the fuss  
was about. Apparently, five new Agents had just arrived, and they were an impressive bunch, to be sure. One of them wore gold, exotic Hayabusa armor. He wore a Katana slung over his back and he stood tall with his  
arms crossed while some of the others were sitting on some of the boxes. Another wore green Grenadier armor and carried a Rocket Launcher with him. Yet another wor full black Operator armor and he had nothing  
but a pistol holster at his side. Literally the most colorful of the group wore the strangest permutation of the Mark Six armor imaginable. His colors were brown primary and yellow secondary, which were strange enough  
because the colors didn't go together at all. But what was easilly the most unique feature this Agent had was his helmut, which was blood red and was adorned with what appeared to be spray-painted teeth on the edges  
of his visor. He was a large man, not as big as the Grenadier, but almost, and he had a buzz cut. On his back, he wore a Spartan Laser. Lastly, in the back of the group sat an Agent with red Mark Six armor and a gold  
visor.

The large man with the brown and yellow armor noticed them and stood to greet them. "Hello there, ladies. You must be some of the other Freelancers."

"Yeah, that's right." Penny told him, stepping into the Hangar and drawing the gazes of the others. "I'm Agent Pennsylvania, and this is Maryland. Welcome to the Mother of Invention."

"Gracias." answered the Operator. "She is a very fine ship. I noticed on the way in here that it had two hyper-propulsion units instead of one. Mui bien."

This guy knew his technology! "Well, thanks for that." Maryland told him. "You should speak to the Director about your admiration of the ship. He'll be happy to hear it."

The Hayabusa Agent grunted, so the brown and yellow Agent spoke up again. "Oh, right. We haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Agent Indiana. That's Agent New Mexico, we call him Mex." he indicated the  
Operator. "That's Minnesota." he said about the Hayabusa. "This is New Jersey."

"How yeh doin'?" the Grenadier said politely in his accent, which was appropriately a Jersey accent.

"Who's he?" Maryland asked, indicating the red guy.

He looked up from his weapon, an Assault Rifle, and said quickly, as if he didn't want to be a part of the conversation, "Oregon.". He immediately returned to cleaning his weapon.

Penny, determined to keep up the conversation, said conversationally, "Don't talk much, do you?"

"No more than I have to." he answered, this time not looking up from his work.

"Strong silent type?"

"Actually, no." he corrected her. "I watch and listen. I learn a lot of things."

"How does that work?" she asked, interested. The others were staring at him now too.

"That's my secret." he insisted. "What I will tell you is that I can tell you've been in the Project for seven months, three days, and that you have been on twenty-six missions since then."

Taken aback, Penny told him, "Yeah. How did you know that?"

He said again, "That's my secret."

**Wait! Oregon and New Jersey? They were in Chapter One. But they seem like they don't have a problem with each other right now. What happenned? And who are these other Freelancers? What secret is Pennsylvania keeping? What's Oregon's secret? Stay tuned to find out.**

**Please leave a review.**


	3. Chapter 3

_**RED vs BLUE**_  
_**EPISODE 3- Church and Carolina Return**_

"Still, don't feel like you have to get there right now." Church told Carolina as they made their way through the cliffs toward the Canyon where they left the others.

Carolina scoffed. "You mean you haven't been missing them?"

"Well, no, that's not what I'm saying." the little holo-Church replied. "I'm just not looking forward to answering Caboose's dumb questions. I'll bet all the money in the ****ing world that he asks if we saw an  
elephant with big ears on our trip."

A laugh escaped Carolina's lips as she repeated, "An elephant with big ears?"

"I dunno, it's just the kind of dumb thing he would-" The sound of troubled voices nearby caught his attention. One of them sounded familiar. "-say."

"That idiot!" one of the voices, the unfamiliar one, burst out. "I told him to wait here. He was supposed to wait for the right time when we could take him together."

Church finally recognized the second voice as Doc, O'Malley's old body. "He'll be okay. I know he will."

"No, no, Doc. You don't know him like the rest of us do." the unfamiliar voice told him. "He'll kill Jersey as soon as he sees him."

"Jersey?" Carolina gasped.

"He couldn't have chosen a worse time to be a complete bucket-head!" the new person declared. "He knows as much as the rest of us how important this mission is. We can't let him get away, and now,  
thanks to Jersey, he probably will. This is an absolute disaster!"

Carolina finally recognized the hardenned voice and stepped out to greet him. "Indiana? What are you doing here?"

Indiana and Doc whirled around to face her. "Hey, Church!" Doc said happilly.

"Hey, Doc." Church replied, though with far less enthusiasm.

The other person, Indiana, who wore strangely-colored armor with teeth painted onto his visor, said happilly, "Carolina! How are you?"

"What are you doing here?" she repeated. "What's going on?"

He sobered immediately. "We're tracking down someone for the Chairman of the UNSC." he explained. "He's extremly dangerous. I think you remember him."

Carolina became more serious than she usually was. "You mean you still haven't caught him?"

"Not yet. We're so close now. He's here, Carolina. He's in this Canyon."

This made no sense to Church, but it bode badly with Carolina, who realized, "He may start using our friends as hostages, Church."

"Who will?" Church demanded. "What the **** is going on here? I've never heard of you, Indiana. Who are you? A Freelancer?"

"Obviously, I'm a Freelancer." he droned. He didn't really seem to like Church very much.

"Okay, and, why does the Chairman want this guy? What did he do?"

"He murdered Freelancers, Church." Carolina told him. "He murdered more of them than the Meta did."

Church stuttered. "Wha-he-no-that- what? But- how is that possible? The Meta killed off, what? North Dakota, New York, who else?"

"I can tell you who our target has murdered." Indiana told him. "Agent Maryland, Agent Minnesota, Agent New Mexico, and now, it looks like New Jersey as well."

"You don't know that, Indie." Doc insisted. "He may come back just in time, or he may actually win-"

KABOOOOOOOM! An explosion rent the air and split everyone's ears. It had come from the Canyon.

Indiana turned to Doc and retorted, "Oh, I don't, do I?"

Church, having fizzled out because of the impact, switched back on and swore, "WHAT THE **** WAS THAT?! SON OF A *****!"

"That was New Jersey." Indiana said angrilly. "That wasn't a good sign. Not good at all. I'm going down there to help him."

"No." Doc insisted. "She said she'd give us a signal."

The furious Freelancer sat down and grumbled, "You're right. Besides, she'll help him out if she can. But we have to do something."

"Maybe you could tell us what my friends have to do with this?" Church suggested.

"He's trying to get away." was the answer. "He came across this Canyon. He's probably headed toward New Panama. There's a shipyard there."

"How come I never heard about this guy?" Church asked angrilly. "Back when I still had a body, I never heard about what happenned to those Agents."

"The Director wanted this covered up." Carolina stated. "Just like the Meta. He didn't want any attention from the media, because that would allow someone to find out what he was doing with the Alpha.  
If someone found that he was breaking the law, he'd have been court martialled."

A noise from behind them drew their attention as a voice said sadly, "Bad news. It's confirmed. New Jersey failed. He's.. he's dead."


	4. Chapter 4

RED vs Blue  
EPISODE 4- Breaking In the Recruits

The Director observed the Training Arena with well-hidden anticipation. He had high expectations for these new recruits, and when he had high expectations, he could always count on an epic performance. He had read the reports of their exploits, and he knew that they were highly experienced fighters. But it was time to see firsthand what they could really do, and there was no better way to do that than to pit them against experienced Freelancers, namely Maryland, Pennsylvania and Carolina.

The Teams were placed on opposite sides of the Training Arena, and they were grabbing their Paint guns, the weapon of choice in any fight.

Down in the Arena, the Teams were mingling and exchanging scattered conversation before the battle began. On Team One, Minnesota, New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Carolina were getting as ready as they could. Carolina seemed to be the only one who wasn't nervous.

"Ready?" she asked Penny in anticipation of the fight.

Penny was a little more reserved, though. "As ready as I'll ever be. These guys may be a bit tough."

Minnesota eyed the Magnum he was given and then commented, "This reminds me of the time I killed my first senior citizen."

Carolina noticed this and asked cautiously, "Senior?"

"Yeah." he chuckled. "Maybe noone told you, but I am from the Cambodian Death Row."

"Great." Penny grumbled.

On the other side, Team Two, consisting of Oregon, Indiana, New Mexico and Maryland, also prepared themselves. Maryland, noticing that Oregon was being very reserved, went over to him and asked, "Nervous?"

"Nope." he answered shortly.

Trying to keep the conversation up, she added, "Oh, okay. Just psyched?"

"Just what?" He obviously didn't understand the lingo.

New Mexico was aggitated, though. He and Indiana were having a speedy exchange in Spanish, in which Mexico was waving his firearm in front of his face.

"What's wrong with him?" Maryland asked Indiana.

"Oh, he's just very nervous. Apparently, he's never picked up an actual weapon before." Indiana explained.

This was not adding up in Mary's mind. "Really?"

"Yeah." Indiana explained. "He earned his reputation by repairing and building artillery and frigates for the UNSC."

"Agents," called out the Director's AI, FILSS. "Please assume your starting positions."

As they did so, Oregon did something rather unexpected. He began to stare determinedly at the opposite end of the Arena, but not in the same type of concentration as the others. As soon as the buzzer went off, Mary learned why. Before the obstacles moved to block him, Oregon took a potshot at New Jersey. This seemed like a hopeless attempt to Mary, but contrary to her assumptions, the paintball flew straight toward its mark and hit Jersey in the left shoulder. It would probably have been his chest, but the big guy tried to swerve out of the way at the last possible second.

"How did you do that?" she gasped.

But he didn't answer. "Move!" he commanded, taking off to the right with New Mexico.

"***d*** it!" Jersey bellowed as the shock of the impact faded and the stinging of the paint kicked in. "Son of a *****!"

Penny was in the same state of near-shock as everyone else. "Who did that?"

"Oregon, I think." Minnesota replied.

"But how? He only had a split second."

"It doesn't matter." Carolina interrupted. "Jersey, you come with me. Minnesota, Penny, you two go to the right." And they were off into the maze.

It wasn't long until Penny and Minnesota bumped into Indiana and Mary. Minnesota took half a glance at them and openned fire, sending three rounds at his opponents. The Freelancers lept out of the way, though, and Indiana shot two rounds back at him. Minnesota dodged these well-aimed shots with practiced agility, so Indie charged him and knocked the gun from his hands. Just then, Minnesota continued the attack, but with his arms and legs, not his weapon. He was suddenly a whirlwind of fists and kicks, and Indiana, taken aback, was thrown into a moving wall.

As this was happenning, Penny was going head to head with Mary. Each fired a shot, which the other easilly dodged, and then they engaged in unarmed combat as well. Mary, being the more heavyset, was still at a disadvantage because of Penny's agility and pain tolerance. Mary delivered three double-handed punches, which Penny shrugged off. In her turn, Penny threw five rapid punches, which Mary struggled to block. Mary side-kicked, but Penny blocked that. Finally, Penny threw a front-kick, which Mary caught and used to throw her back.

Suddenly, and as previously mentioned, Minnesota hurled Indiana at the changing environment wall. Mary re-drew her sidearm and, without so much as a second thought, fired on Minnesota, hitting him in the chest twice and in his left leg once. Mary instantly paid for her charity as Penny had also drawn her own sidearm and took advantage of her distranction. She shot her in the face and allowed her to fall, eliminated. Meanwhile, Indiana recovered from his throwdown and delivered a mighty running uppercut to Minnesota, knocking him out.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the training arena, Oregon and New Mexico ran into New Jersey and Carolina. Mex shrieked, not expecting to run into them just yet, and turned around and started running the other way. Because his back was turned, he was completely vulnerable to Jersey's attack, which hit him squarely between the shoulders.

"Get him, Jersey." Carolina backed off. She was letting him take care of Oregon by himself. A rookie wasn't exactly that much of a threat to her position on the Scoreboard.

Jersey rushed into battle, firing off four rounds which all missed because the arena changed and a collumn emerged in front of Oregon. By the time Jersey zipped around to where his adversary was, he had dissappeared. He hurried to the other side but found nothing.

There was only one other possible place to look, and that was up. And that was were Jersey found him- clinging to the wall and following him around. As Jersey noticed him, Oregon dropped on him, causing the big man to lose his pistol. Oregon aimed his own pistol at his opponent's head, but a knee-jerk reaction from Jersey caused him to lose it as well.

This gave Jersey another chance. He struggled to his feet, and allowed Oregon to jump on his back. The smaller man began punching his face, but Jersey fell backward and crushed Oregon underneath his massive weight. He turned and tried to stomp on him, but Oregon rolled out of the way, shot up, and delivered a flip kick with surprising agility.

This blow knocked Jersey to the ground, and Oregon, showing possibly irrational bravery, fell atop the bigger man and began wrestling with him. But Jersey was more powerful than Oregon, so when Oregon noticed Carolina taking aim at him to help Jersey out, he eased up ever so slightly, allowing Jersey to get the upper hand and roll on top.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Carolina shot three rounds, intending that they hit Oregon, but since Jersey came out on top at the last possible instant, they instead found their targets in Jersey's back. Oregon then shifted his attention to Carolina, who was closing in as she realised her mistake. The very first thing Oregon did was shove the limp Jersey at her, sending her flying back.

Carolina struggled to her feet and quickly scanned the area for him. But by now, the arena was changing again, and she could see Penny and Indiana getting ready to face off. There were only four combatants left now; Penny, Indie, Oregon and herself. So she decided to take out the competition and deal with Oregon with Penny's help.

She fired her best shots at Indiana, hitting him directly in the face. But as Indiana grunted and mumbled incoherently and then fell to the ground, Penny was shot in the leg. She screamed in surprise, then was pinned to the ground by a volley of paintballs.

Carolina turned to see where the shots came from and found Oregon once again on top of a column nearby.

"How do you keep doing that?" she demanded.

"The same way you do." he replied, turning toward her to reveal that he now had two guns, one of which he must have gotten from Jersey. "I'm just good."

He openned fire, forcing Carolina to barrel roll to the right. She returned fire, but Oregon simply lept atop a different column. The firefight continued until both were out of paint, so Oregon lept down from his perch and delivered a powerful flying kick directly to Carolina's chest. She impacted into a wall, but quickly recovered and rushed back into action. She threw three hook punches, which Oregon easilly blocked, and then parried a sidekick.

This dangerous dance continued across the field until Carolina stumbbled on New Mexico's paralyzed form. Her hand found his pistol, but because of this, she was kicked in the face and skidded across the floor. She now had what she needed: ground between herself and her opponent. She rolled over and fired off every round in the clip, catching Oregon off guard and riddling him with paint.

FILSS announced happilly, "That's the match. Team One wins."

Later in the Locker Room, everyone was chattering excitedly about the recent match.

"I didn't even see her." Indiana told Minnesota good naturedly. "She was on the other side of the field."

"Yeah." Jersey added. "It looked like both de teams had sharpshooters, yeah?"

"That was pretty amazing." Mary told Oregon, who was still scraping paint from his armor. Oregon, however, ignored this compliment.

Penny understood that Oregon was not a very social person, but she couldn't take his silence anymore. "No acknowledgement at all? She did just give you a compliment."

"I know." Oregon replied without looking up. "I heard her."

"It's rude not to say thank you, then."

He just continued scraping the paint from his boots, so Penny and Mary stood aside and Penny told her friend, "Looks like we've found you your socially awkward guy."

"Looks like it."

Meanwhile, the others were talking to the more experienced Freelancers now. "-said something about killing Seniors, right?" Indiana asked Minnesota.

"You killed old people?" Washington gasped.

"Yeah." Minnesota seemed proud of it, too. "I was snatched from Death Row by the Director. I was supposedly executed."

"How can we trust you, then?" North Dakota asked him seriously. "How do we know you won't start killing us?"

Minnesota removed his helmut to reveal a shaved head and a guant Asian face with a scar that looked like a shatter mark before he answered. "Because the Director told me that he'd execute me for real if I tried. Besides, I can't beat some of you guys. I'd like nothing more than to slaughter people with you."

"Good to know, old chap." Wyoming commented.

New Mexico was ashamed of himself. "I choked. I can't do this."

"You'll be fine." York insisted. "You'll do better in no time. I can show you a thing or two to help you out, if you want."

**That was epic! Oregon is pretty tough, isn't he? Who is your favorite Freelancer OC? Answer in a review, please.**


	5. Chapter 5

RED vs Blue  
EPISODE 5- Ka-Bluey!

Oregon dodged and weaved the incoming rockets, taking the occassional potshot at the hulking Jersey, who likewise sidestepped every shot Oregon took. This wasn't working. He had to get in and engage him close quarters. If only the Simulation Troopers could help him out. Oh well, they were out of their league, here.

Barrel rolling out of the way of yet another rocket, Oregon lept into deep bushes and began sneaking around behind his foe. Jersey never was smart enough to learn to prepare against this-

Boom! Just as Oregon was about to leap out and defeat Jersey, the ground underneath him exploded. He was catapulted through the air and into a rock face. The impact made him lose his Assault Rifle, leaving him defenseless.

"Ha! Found yeh." Jersey whipped around to face Oregon and began to advance on him. "This is it, m*****f*****. Time ta join Maryland."

"Sarge!" Oregon called out. "Help me out here. Without me, you won't stand a chance."

Jersey caught on and snapped at Sarge, "Don't listen to 'im! He's lying."

"More Freelancers are on their way." Oregon continued. "They always go to the Blue Team. Texas, Carolina, Wash- don't take any chances. You must not let him kill me, or the Red Army will lose."

"Well, **** that." Sarge decided, unloading one, two, three slugs into Jersey's chest.

Jersey fell back, disoriented but not dying. "Son of a b****!" he screamed, then turned to Oregon and let out a high-pitched whining sound.

This racket really did a number on everyone's ears. Even the Blues could hear it.

"OW!" Tucker yelled. "WHAT THE ****?!"

"WHAT?!" the bumbling Caboose yelled back. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"It's the Reds!" Wash deduced. "What the h*** are they doing?!"

"WHAT?!" Caboose repeated.

KABOOOOOM! Back at Red Base, the high-pitched sound eminating from Jersey's helmut caused hundreds of hidden mines to blow. Oregon was sent flying toward the Reds' bunker, landing on something metalic. His Assault Rifle!

He turned to see Jersey emerge from the smoke, rocket launcher on his shoulder and ready to cause something to burst into flames. He lowered the barrel and prepared to let a projectile fly, but Oregon rolled over and openned fire at the last moment, shooting the rocket as soon as it left the launcher and sending New Jersey's lifeless body flying into the Warthog, which had been thrown about by the explosion.

Oregon got to his feet gingerly and made his way to Jersey's corpse and shot the helmut, killing the sound.

The terrain was completely wasted. The tree that Grif had been sleeping under was ablaze, the open field now had an enormous crater in it, and the Warthog was almost irreparably damaged. The Reds seemed to have had their resources depleted by this one encounter. It was also obvious that they had never experienced anything quiet like this before.

"What happenned?" Sarge asked, stupified by the destruction.

"Jersey must have placed mines all over the place." Oregon explained. "He got here before me and must have rigged the battlefield. Did anyone else come by here earlier?"

"How should I know? I've been inside all ***d*** day planning a massive attack on the dirty Blues."

Grif shakilly emerged from his cover. "Texas never did anything like this." he commented, observing the fires and the crater.

"Believe it or not, Jersey wasn't the worst of the Freelancers." Oregon told them. "Like I said, there will be more of them here soon. We need to get out of the open."

"Y'know," Sarge said slowly, "I just got an idea on how to finally defeat the Blues. We need to hold a Conference."

"Not another one."

"Shut the **** up, Grif. You will be staying out here as a lookout. If there really are more Freelancers on the way, they will probably kill you and paint you all over the canyon. I hope your blood isn't orange."

Grif turned to his tree, then answered, "Yeah, I think I'd rather sit through the Conference."

There were five Reds altogether, and they were now all at attention ready for the Conference. Considering they were from the Red Army, they were all varied in their colors. The only one that wore strictly red armor besides Sarge wore a sickenning maroon. Another soldier had pink armor. PINK! How humiliating. Of course, there was Grif, who had orange armor, and then there was a steel-colored guy. They were a very strange array of soldiers.

"Okay, men." Sarge told them. "Our first order of business for today is to introduce our newest member, Agent Oregon. He's a Freelancer."

"Wow, a Freelancer?" the pink guy gasped. "Awesome. Now we have one up on the Blues."

"Actually Donut, if Carolina comes back with Church, there will be two Freelancers on their team." the maroon guy pointed out. "Is this Freelancer any good, Sarge?"

"I am." Oregon asserted. "If you look outside, you'll find an enormous crater, created by a rogue Freelancer named New Jersey who just tried and failed to kill me."

"Yeah, it was pretty bad***." Grif told the maroon guy. "Hey Sarge, permission to sleep through the Conference?"

"Permission denied. Now Oregon, it's time to introduce the other members of your team. Let's start with Lopez."

The steel-colored guy stared at Oregon and told Sarge, "[I have a bad feeling about this guy, Sarge.]" is a robotic drone.

"He, he, well, whataya know?" Sarge chuckled. "I think he actually likes you."

But Oregon understood Lopez perfectly, who continued to say, "[No, listen to me. He says there will be several rogue Agents from Project Freelancer here in several moments. The odds of that are exactly twenty-two to one. I think he's the rogue Agent."]

"Is this guy a robot?" Oregon asked Sarge curiously, ignoring Lopez's warnings, which obviously noone could understand.

"Yep." Sarge declared proudly. "Built him myself."

"Oh you did? That's impressive."

"[**** you.]"

"You two are going to be fast friends." Sarge chuckled.

"[**** all of you.]"

"Okay, next." Sarge urged.

Oregon moved on to the maroon guy and asked, "And you are?"

"Private First Class Dick Simmons." he answered militarilly.

"And what skills do you have, Simmons?"

"He's the smart one." the pink guy told him. "We almost never understand what he's saying unless he gives us the short version."

That was something. Simmons might prove to be useful. "Are you good with statistics, Simmons?"

"It's a second language to me."

"What about analyzing probabilities?"

"I can do that."

"Really?" Time for a test. "What is the probability that we will be hit by a meteorite from where we are in the middle of a meteor shower?"

"Well, that depends." Simmons told him. "Is the storm a Class A Alpha or a Class A Bravo?"

"Class A Bravo's are more common, so Bravo."

"If it were raining, the atmospheric pressure would likely decrease the probability by point one five one percent, so approximately..." He paused to calculate the variables, then answered, "Two point three one one six percent."

Wow! Impressive. "Two point three one one six three percent." Oregon corrected him. "Very good."

"Okay, enough with the geek mumbo-jumbo." Sarge grumbled. "You already had the misfortune of meeting Grif. Just keep in mind that things do tend to get kind crazy around here. You have special permission to take out any frustrations on him. Any at all."

"Thanks Sarge." Grif sighed.

"And lastly we have-"

"I'm Donut." the pink guy declared happilly. "It's nice to meet you, Agent Oregon."

What an insufferable idiot! "It's.. nice to meet you too, Donut."

**Lopez raises a good point. Maybe Oregon is a rogue Agent. If so, then what did he do? Will he get caught?**

**Please leave a review. Enjoy!**


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